


Storm

by Enigmanimate



Series: Drabble Delights [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt, Love, M/M, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 14:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16704508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmanimate/pseuds/Enigmanimate
Summary: Harry knows what he must do. Why is the right choice always the hardest?





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowgall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowgall/gifts).



> Dedicated to snowgall because she has the loveliest drabbles :)

"You're leaving me."

Those long, pale fingers wrap around the wineglass; a platinum wedding band glints on one, a stark reminder of their sins.

They're at the Leaky, seated by a secluded alcove via Tom's assistance. A winsome smile and a couple of Galleons are often all it costs Harry to gain his favour, something he's found quite useful in recent times. Especially when it comes to the man before him.

As always he is a picture of elegance, sitting athwart from Harry with his ankle crossed over one wool trouser-clad knee. He's dressed in a bespoke suit, not a wrinkle or fold seen, cuffs linked by emerald studs. The mere sight of him imbues Harry with a clusterfuck of feeling, and indescribable tempest of _wantbetrayallovehatredobsessionmadness._

"You've left me no choice, Draco," says Harry.

He doesn't know what he'd expected. An argument, shattered crockery, one of those famed Malfoy strops. But Draco simply sits in silence, stem of the wineglass twirling between his fingers, storm-grey eyes fixated on the polished wooden table. Never meeting Harry's. Harry swallows hard. If Draco has no reason to care then neither should Harry, should he? More fool him for falling stupidly in love with a man who can give him no more than an extramarital affair. He wants to be someone's reality, not a dirty secret to conceal behind closed doors.

But fuck, does it _hurt._

Draco bows his head and his flaxen hair falls forward, the thin locks gleaming as they catch the light. "I just need more time," he whispers at long last.

"You know I've given you enough." Harry closes his eyes. "I'm sorry."


End file.
